


I want you to stay

by LadyIrina



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Billy needs a lot of TLC, Depression, Fix-It, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve provides, physical abuse from Billy's shitty dad, takes season 3 out back and shoots it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-24 01:10:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19713259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina
Summary: Post season 3, so beware of spoilers for everything season 3 related.After the final battle, Billy finds himself in the hospital, severely injured and broken in more ways than one.He never expected Steve Harrington to become his one ray of hope in the darkness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this? Because fuck season three, that's why!  
> (And rating went up in chapter 3)

It's been nine days since the big mall-battle.  
Nine days since Joyce thought she'd turned the key that lead to Hop's death, only to discover the man had survived by some miracle. (Ironically due to him losing his balance from the explosion and falling head over ass over the railing; away from the destruction and dissolving.)

It has also been nine days since Max sat crying over her step-brother, certain he was going to die. Truth be told, everyone had thought Billy was going to die, including Billy himself, considering all the blood from all the wounds and him passing out... But, no, like the Hawkins Chief of Police, he had survived against all odds.  
Nine days later and Billy is currently staring up at the ceiling in his hospital room. 

His body is working on healing itself, but his mind feels every bit as raw and abused as it did during the -He's not sure what to call it- possession?  
Billy doesn't sleep much, haunted by dreams and the knowledge of what he's done and almost did, so he spends most of his nights staring up at the white ceiling and dreading that the creature might not be dead either.

His father and Susan visited once, on the day when Billy was admitted to the hospital, but he hasn't seen them since. Good. Max, on the other hand, has been to see him every single day. Some days Billy speaks a word or two, but mostly he continues to stare up at the ceiling. She does tell him that the girl, the one the creature wanted and who had reminded him of his past, of a time when he had been happy, that girl had survived too and she is doing well, and he's strangely relieved to hear that.  
Billy only remember bits and pieces of the time when he was sick, possessed, whatever, but he remembers taking a stand against that creature. He remembers using the strength of that memory, of his happiness, to fight back and he couldn't have done it without that girl. She had given him the chance to at least die human. It wasn't her fault that he'd survived.

Since the incident, Billly expected the journalists, the police, the FBI and other government agencies bombarding him with questions he wouldn't be able to answer. What he didn't expect was Steve Harrington.

He made his first appearance on the second day, right after Max had left, and Billy was more asleep than not due to the painkillers the hospital was pumping into him. (His torso now looked like an abstract painting of stitches and bruises.) Steve had taken a seat in the chair next to Billy's bed, wearing a strange look on his bruised face. Billy can't quite remember what he'd been talking about. Something about some Russians? All he remembers from that visit was how he actually enjoyed the sound of Steve's voice.

Two days later, Steve Harrington was back. Billy's mind was a little more free from the painkillers, but by then the fear and guilt was setting in and so he didn't pay much attention to what he was saying that time either. His voice still sounded nice, though.

During these nine days, Steve has been to visit him five times. Always alone, always with a strange look on his face, and Billy has no idea why Steve bothers.

It's on this ninth day, when Billy is staring up at the white ceiling while the wound in his chest burns with his every single breath, that Steve touches him.  
Billy flinches, hard, dread and panic washes through him, and his eyes dart from the ceiling to the person next to him. He is unable to strangle a pained sound.

“Sorry!” Steve pulls his hand away from Billy's arm and holds it up in a gesture of placation. “I just... I wasn't sure if you were actually awake or not.”

Billy's heart is thundering in his chest to such a degree that the machine monitoring his vitals is beeping sharply. He completely fails to hide the fear in his eyes, a fear that he **knows** is painfully visible to Steve, and he is yet again reminded how pathetic he is. _-A pussy_ , his father's voice snarls.

“I'm sorry.” Steve repeats, uncertain and guilty.

Billy swallows down his fear, bottles it up despite that he knows it won't remain there, and returns to staring up at the ceiling. Between his father's punches and the creatures invasion, he is starting to think that maybe he doesn't deserve any better. Maybe that's why his mother left him behind; because she saw that he was no good.  
But knowing he deserves the pain doesn't make him any less scared.

Steve then begins to ramble on about how he has to find a new job and how much that sucks and Billy can't keep quiet any longer.

Keeping his eyes on the ceiling, Billy asks; “Why are you here?”  
His voice is quiet, rusty from disuse, but it silences Steve Harrington like a thunderclap.

The question seem to stump Steve for a little while, maybe he doesn't know why he's there either, but finally he says; “I thought you'd might need a friend.”

If Billy didn't feel so hollow and empty inside, he might have laughed at that. 

“I know what it's like,” Steve says quietly. “I mean, I don't know what it's like to be... what you were, but I know what it's like when you learn about this stuff and how it messes with your mind. I didn't sleep for a week after I saw my first demodog. Man, I'm telling you, I kept this spiked baseball bat under my bed for ages following that particular incident.” He tries and fails at a laugh, clears his throat and goes back to his serious tone. “I'm just saying, you've been through some shit and if you want to, I don't know, talk or something, it would be best if it was someone who knew what you were talking about. Someone who wouldn't think you're insane.”

Billy doesn't answer. He just keeps staring at the ceiling.  
And Steve Harrington continues to appear in his hospital room.

-

Days go by. Billy's body continues to heal, but his mind does not.

At times he can't tell the difference between dreams and the real world, he is convinced the creature is back and will start controlling him again at any moment, but mostly he finds himself unable to shake the darkness inside his mind; the thing that whispers he is a horrible person and deserves every horrible thing that had happened to him.

When the hospital decides there is no more they can do for him, it is all up to Billy's own body to do the rest, that it is time for him to go home; Billy walks out like sleepwalker heading for his own execution, his father's presence looming behind him.  
The drive home consists of Neil Hargrove complaining about the cost of Billy's medical treatment, but Billy doesn't really listen. He is only attuned to the tone of his father's voice, waiting for the change that would warn of any anger heading Billy's way, but today he seems content to merely complain.

Back at the house, Billy makes his way to his room and stays there. He gets into bed, closes his eyes and lets time pass. His body hurts, the wounds itch and nightmares makes sleep close to impossible.  
Max tries to bring him food, but Billy only eats a little and only because she threatens to tell either Neil or someone at the hospital. She keeps looking at him with fear and guilt, for some reason.

Billy wishes the creature 'had' killed him. The pain and the fear is taking far too long to do it.

On the third day, he doesn't open his eyes when he hears someone enter his room, expecting it to be Max, but Billy is surprised to hear that voice again.  
“Hey, your sister let me in.” Steve says, dragging a chair noisily across the floor to sit next to his bed.

Billy blinks surprised. (And a part of him cowers at the sound the chair makes, expecting his father's angry voice demanding to know what the hell is going on in there.)

Settling, Steve leans back on the chair, frowns a little at the sight of him. “So, how are you doing?”  
He doesn't answer, merely closes his eyes again, hoping Steve will take the hint and leave him alone.  
Steve sighs instead. “Yeah, it's the sleeping that is the worst part, isn't it? The nightmares. I'm guessing you're still in a lot of pain too, huh?” And he keeps talking, asking questions he doesn't really expect answers to.

Strangely enough, listening to him talk, Billy finds himself getting sleepy. He drowses and rests.

When Steve leaves, Billy faintly registers him and Max talking outside the door to his room.  
They sound worried.

-

Billy just wants to lie in bed and stare at nothing, but unlike the hospital; his father's voice will some times echo through the house and it makes him flinch and tense up, waiting for the door to his room to slam open. It's just as exhausting as the nightmares.  
It is what eventually drives him up on his feet and out of the house.

Crowds makes him nauseous with their loudness and people constantly bumping into him. The forest terrifies him for some reason, though he suspects it might be their movements that reminds him of the creature hovering over him before impaling him with teeth and malice.

Billy ends up wandering on somewhat open gravel paths, looking for quiet and solace.

It's raining on the day Steve Harrington's car comes up next to him and Billy hears that now familiar voice say; “Get in the car.”

Billy wraps his arms tight around himself and keeps walking.

The car follows, but Steve's voice is now sharp. “Get in the goddamn car, Billy.”

Billy flinches, and he obeys.  
It's only when he closes the car door and sits dripping in the car seat that he realizes that he's trembling from the cold.  
Steve is staring at him with a mix of frustration and anger, but Billy keeps his eyes on the dashboard.

Sighing, Steve seems to be doing that a lot around him, Steve then puts the car into gear and drives.

When they come to a stop, Billy glances out the window. He's brought him home. Not to Billy's home, but his home. Steve's home.  
“My parents are out of town for the weekend.” Steve explains, getting out of the car. “Come on.”

Billy gets out of the car, not sure what they're doing here but not really caring as long as it doesn't involve other people. Steve he can handle, but not those kids of his. Not now.

They enter the house and Billy wonders if Steve's dad would get angry at him for bringing trash like Billy there. Especially as he is dripping on their floor.

“This way.” Steve says, guiding him upstairs and into what Billy can only guess is his room. He starts rummaging in one of his closets. “We need to get you into some dry clothes.”  
  
Billy merely waits. When clothes are held out to him, he forces his cold, numb hands to reach out and take them. “I don't...” He begins, quietly, but doesn't quite know how to finish the sentence.  
“Shush.” Steve waves him off. “You don't need a pneumonia in addition to everything else.” 

Clearly hanging around all those kids has rubbed off on Steve Harrington, activated some parental gene, and Billy honestly can't decide whether he appreciates it or if it makes him want to break everything in the room.  
He looks down at the clothes in his hands. They probably cost the same as Billy's car.

“Do you...” For once Steve's voice sound uncertain and Billy glances up at him. “Do you need help? Changing?” Steve asks.

Billy shakes his head. It will hurt, but he can do it.

“Okay.” Steve steps out of the room, looking back to say; “Do you like hot chocolate?” and when Billy nods, he declares he is going to make some downstairs and closes the door to give Billy his privacy.  
Billy doesn't move for a long, long time, then he puts the dry clothes on the bed and slowly begins to strip off his own soaking ones. He tries so very hard not to look at the horrible mess that was once the chest he loved to show off, quickly covering it up with the borrowed t-shirt.

The primitive part of his brain is relieved to be dry and warming up, but Billy is still tense and wary when he leaves the room and heads downstairs. He's constantly drawn between wondering why Steve is doing this and honestly not caring.

“Come. Sit.” Steve waves him into the living room the second he sees him. He points towards a comfortable looking sofa and there are two cups on the table there.  
Billy sits down.  
“Better?” Steve asks, pushing one cup towards him and then picking up the other for himself.

Billy nods, not sure what else to do, and automatically picks up the cup as well. He smells chocolate and his body suddenly craves a taste. He sips.

They sit in silence for a while, but Steve can't help himself.  
“So, if you don't wanna talk about it, we won't.” He clears his throat, shifting between staring into his cup and over at Billy. “But I just wanted to say that... We know it wasn't your fault, okay? We know what the Flayer did to people.” He then leans a little forward, setting his gaze fully on Billy. “And we all saw what you did to protect El. We saw you fight that thing all by yourself.”

Billy frowns, instantly uncomfortable, and stares down at the floor.

“Don't get me wrong,” Steve adds, “we also know you're a bit of a douche.”

That surprises Billy enough to make him snap his gaze up at Steve. And he is yet again surprised by the faint smile he sees there.  
Billy can't help a ghost of a laugh escaping with his next exhale.

Steve's smile widens.

Billy sips his chocolate.

-

Steve does most of the talking. He talks and Billy listens. He finds that he really doesn't mind listening to that voice.  
He even responds with single syllable answers from time to time when asked a direct question.

Billy is almost relaxed when Steve wants his attention and touches his wrist.  
The contact makes Billy flinch away and startles Steve.  
Holding his hands up, eyes wide, Steve looks genuinely worried. “Oh shit, did I hurt you? Dammit, I forgot.”

Cradling the wrist to his aching stomach, Billy shakes his head, but can't make himself meet his eyes. “No.” He mumbles. “No, it's okay.”

Steve lowers his hands and he frowns thoughtfully. “It doesn't hurt. It's... the touch?” He then shrugs a little. “Yeah, well, makes sense. The Flayer did move in without permission. I guess I wouldn't be so keen on touch either after that.”

Billy glances up at him. There was no trace of mockery in Steve's voice, just thoughtful contemplation out loud, and it was strange to hear it put into words when he'd been struggling to make sense out of it himself. 

Steve tries to smile. “Keeping my hands to myself from now on. Don't worry.” He then turns serious again. “It's okay to tell me shit like this, you know? I don't want to make things worse for you.”

“You can't.” Billy says, despite having no plans to say anything. “Make it worse.” He clarifies.

Steve clicks his tongue and tilts his head while leaning back in his chair. “Don't underestimate me, buddy. You'd be amazed at some of the stupid shit I can do.”  
The unease lifts and Billy almost smiles. 

He ends up spending close to four hours at the Harrington house before Billy realizes he should be heading home or risk his father's wrath. He's been giving a long leash, basically being ignored, while he recovers enough to be of use again, but he knows better than to push his luck.

“I'll drive you.” Steve says, getting up to fetch his keys.  
Billy gets up as well, but hesitates and looks down at the clothes he's wearing. His own are still upstairs.  
“Don't worry about it.” Steve says from the hallway, as if he's read his mind. “I'll get yours back to you later, ok?”

And apparently it is, because Billy leaves the house wearing Steve's clothes. On the drive back, Steve continues to talk, complaining about still being hunting for a job that doesn't suck, and Billy listens. He's sorry when they come to a halt outside of Billy's own house.

“Hey,” Steve says, leaning over the gearstick to look up at Billy after he'd gotten out of the car and is just about to close the door, “do you wanna come over tomorrow? Hang out again?”

Billy hesitates, hand on the door and feeling the rain tap-taping at his hair. He hesitates for two heartbeats, then he nods.  
Steve's voice is soothing. Billy's house is not.

“Awesome.” Steve actually seems happy for some reason. “Want me to pick you up?”

Billy nods.  
“Three?”  
Billy nods again, then closes the door and heads inside. 

Susan gives a careful smile, Max frowns and his father ignores him as Billy quietly makes his way by them at the dinner table and disappears into his room.

His clothes smells like Steve Harrington and it is almost as soothing as his voice.

-

Steve picks him up at three the next day. Billy is already waiting outside when his car pulls up, unable to stand hearing his father's voice, even when he's not angry, and is relieved beyond words when they drive away from the house.  
Steve's clothes are still in Billy's room, but neither of them mention them.

This time Steve serves pizza and puts on a movie, declaring that while he does mind his weight; it is summer and the weekend, so what the hell.  
Billy actually eats two slices, more than he has eaten in weeks, and while his belly aches a little, it also feels good.  
The movie is stupid, but it makes Steve laugh and that sounds good.

Billy doesn't feel himself sink further and further into the sofa, or how his head grows heavy as sleep sneaks up on him, but he most certainly feel the horror when he finds himself facing the creature again. It lunges and bites at him, tears away at his flesh, pulls off huge chunks, savoring his screams as much as his blood. And Billy screams. 

Dear God, he screams. It hurts more than anything he's ever felt, he's more terrified than he's ever been, and he feels so fucking helpless.

He doesn't even have his anger anymore. Just fear.

Pain and fear.

“Billy?” A voice calls out. “Billy, wake up.” A familiar voice. “Billy!”

Billy's eyes snap open, his mind shifting drunkenly between the nightmare and reality, and he desperately flails away from what has a hold on his upper arm until he's back against something.

“Billy, you're okay. Do you hear me?” There is that voice again. “It was a nightmare. You fell asleep and you were dreaming. You're okay.”

Billy forces himself to focus on the voice and his blurred sight makes out Steve Harrington sitting at the opposite side of the sofa, eyes wide and hand hovering uncertainly in his direction. His confused mind begin to piece together what is reality and what his not and he shudders hard when he realizes that he is not back in the creatures grip, but in Steve Harrington's house and pressing himself against the armrest of the sofa.

Once Billy stops flailing and calms a little, Steve lowers his hand. “You okay?”  
Billy stares down at the floor and nods. He's sweating like crazy, his body hurts and his heart is still racing, but he is slowly grounding himself to the present.  
“You were dreaming. I tried to wake you up.” Steve sounds apologetic. “I had to touch you. I'm sorry.”

Billy shakes his head. He's the one who should be apologizing. “Didn't mean to... fall asleep.”

“No wonder you did.” Steve says, softly, like he cares. “You don't sleep much, do you? You look exhausted.”

“I... dream.” Billy reluctantly admits. “About it.”

“I have nightmares too.” Steve reveals, his voice still so gentle. “It's pretty normal once you've learned that monsters are real.” He hesitates. “You sure you're okay?”

Billy nods. He makes himself sit up straight again, ignoring the pull of the wounds in his torso. “You want me to leave?” He's pretty sure he managed to get a couple of good hits in when he was blindly battling to get away from Steve. 

“Leave? What? No.” Steve inches a little closer. “Billy, you're a mess. You nearly died, you fought a monster, you were made to do things... It's okay not to be okay, but it's also okay to let people help you. Okay?”

Billy actually glances over at him, sees that pretty face all covered with concern and empathy, and he feels so fucking alone that he could cry. He shakes his head. “I don't have anybody.” And it is his own damn fault, he knows, but anger is the only way he knows how to vent.  
If Billy had to be miserable, why shouldn't the people around him be?  
And his father had always said that strength was the only way to gain respect. As much as he hates his father, he has to admit that people do respect him.

Steve's hand lifts a little from where it had been resting on his knee, lowers again, then lifts and hovers. He looks completely torn as to what to do. “Can I...? Can I touch you?” He suddenly asks. “Just your hand! I mean, not hold it, like, and it's okay if you don't want to, I don't mean to be pushy, it's totally fine if you don't want...”  
Billy is too exhausted to listen to him ramble, so he nods. As long as he knows it's coming, he thinks he can handle it.

Steve looks so relieved it's almost funny. But he does reach out and gently places his hand on top of Billy's. He doesn't hold on or press down, just rests it there, a warm and reassuring touch.

It feels good.

“I told you, back at the hospital, that I was there to be your friend and I meant it.” Steve gives a light one-shouldered shrug. “I still mean it. So, you got me. Okay?”

Billy shifts his gaze from Steve's face down to where his hand is resting on his. For some odd reason, he believes him. “Okay.”

And when Steve moves to pull his hand away, Billy quickly turns his and takes a hold of it.

 _-Faggot_ , his father's voice snarls in the back of his head. _-Pussy._

Steve's fingers gently curls around his, as if it is a promise.

Billy can feel his eyes tear up, can feel when the tears begin to trail down his face, feels the shame of it, but Steve doesn't say anything; merely holds on to his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy struggles and Steve struggles to help him

Billy expects things to become awkward after that, but it doesn't.

Even after such a display of weakness, Steve acts like nothing had changed. He even invites Billy back the next day.  
The weirdest and maybe most pathetic part is that Billy says yes.

Back home, Billy slinks to his room and curls up on his bed to wait for tomorrow.  
He stares at the clothes he borrowed from Steve, piled up in a heap on the chair next to the bed, and he tries very carefully not to think too much.

Max enters his room shortly afterward and saves him from his own mind, bringing him some sandwiches. She's still nervous around him and he's not hungry, but the gesture is well-meant. 

“Thanks.” Billy mumbles.  
She blinks. And he realizes it is quite possibly the first time he's ever uttered those words to her.

When Steve arrives to pick him up the next day, Billy is standing next to his own car, staring at it and remembering the feeling of something grabbing a hold of him and dragging him off to the start of his never-ending nightmares. It had been towed back to the house, but he hasn't gone near it.

Steve gets out of his car and walks over to stand next to him by the ruined vehicle.

Billy remembers screaming and clawing at the ground and trying to hold on to the doors of that abandoned building, all in vain, while his car hissed and smoked and watched.

“What are you going to do with it?” Steve asks.

Billy turns and heads over to Steve's car. “I don't know.” It's ridiculous to blame a car for what happened to him, and he doesn't, not really, but he just can't look at it without remembering.  
His car had been his freedom, his sanctuary, he'd worked damn hard to save up the money to buy it, worked on it for hours, yet he can't picture himself getting into it again, even if it could be repaired.

And his body... Billy had realized at a young age that the girls liked his face, found him attractive, so he had worked out like crazy to get the body to match his face and draw more attention, even from grown women. His father always claimed that Billy was a loser, but girls and women, even married women, loved him, wanted him for his good looks.

Well, not anymore. Billy can't stand the sight of his scarred torso and knows he can never show himself by the pool again. The faint scar on his cheek is nothing compared to the scars under his shirt.

Steve gets into his car as well and looks over at Billy in the passenger seat. “We don't have to go to my house if you wanna do something else.”  
Billy dreads the idea of going some place with people. “Your house.” He says.  
“Okay then,” Steve replies and they drive back to the Harrington house. 

Once again Steve offers food and once again, to his surprise, Billy finds himself eating. He doesn't know why, but it's easier here. Everything is easier. It's like he can breathe again.  
He starts to nod off again too, but he wakes with a startled jolt every time he's about to fall asleep.

“Hey,” Steve suddenly says, “you can close your eyes for a bit, if you want to. I gotta write some job applications anyway and it would be a hell of a lot easier without your constant nagging.”

Billy frowns, hesitates, reluctant to return to nightmares and maybe end up unknowingly punching Steve again. He doesn't want to risk losing these hours of... whatever this is. It is the only thing in his life that doesn't make his stomach tense up in nervous knots.

“I'll wake you if you start flailing about again.” Steve holds his gaze. “Promise.” He moves over on the chair next to the sofa and grabs a small pile of papers lying on the table. “Stretch out, close your eyes and relax. I'm not going anywhere.”

Billy continues to hesitate, doesn't move for several minutes, but Steve has turned his focus to the papers in front of him. He makes an occasional scribble with a pen, but otherwise ignores Billy completely.  
Eventually Billy concedes and grabs one of the fancy pillows there and shoves it under his head as he curls up on his seat, making himself as small as possible in the corner of the sofa.

He doesn't intend to actually sleep, merely rest a little, possibly close his eyes for a second, but definitely not sleep. He is just so fucking tired...

Seconds later he's asleep and fails to see Steve putting the pen down on the table to lean back and watch him with a worried frown.

-

Billy does dream again. He watches himself go after Max, hears her scream for him to stop, tastes her blood on his tongue, hears himself scream to stop, before he suddenly hears a familiar voice call out his name and this time he latches on to that voice with desperation. That voice pulls him out of the darkness to where Steve is hovering nervously over him.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, sounding and looking worried.

Nodding, sitting up, Billy is trembling and sweating, but it's easier to separate nightmare from reality this time. “M'okay,” he mumbles. His stomach is rolling and he hopes he won't throw up.

“Here.” Steve holds a glass of water in front of him. 

Billy takes it and drinks. The cool liquid feels good sliding down his throat, so good that he lifts the glass to press its chilled surface to his feverish forehead.

“You sure you're okay?” Steve says.

Billy nods, eyes closed and he can feel his mind settling along with his stomach. After a few more moment, he lowers the glass and opens his eyes to look at the pale Steve. “Thanks.”  
He seems to be saying a lot of that lately.

Steve nods, but still looks worried. “I told you I'd be here, right?”  
He did. And he was. It is just rare that people actually hold a promise made to Billy.

When he drives him home later, Steve adds apologetic to his concerned face. “My parents will be home tomorrow.”  
Billy nods. That means he won't be going over there. They wouldn't welcome trash.  
“I mean,” Steve continues, trying to sound nonchalant and failing, “you could still come over?”

Billy pretends not to care. “It's fine.” He glances over at him. “I need to decide what to do with my car anyways,” he lies.

“Okay.” Steve stops the car by the driveway to Billy's home, but he starts digging into his pockets before Billy can get out. “Just... Wait.”  
Billy waits.  
Steve pulls out some paper, digs out a pen from the sidepocket in the car-door and writes something down before he hands it to Billy. “My phone number.” And when Billy sends him a blank look, Steve shrugs and says; “Just in case. You never know, you know?”

Billy folds the paper and shoves it into the pocket of his jeans before opening the door and getting out.

“Hey?” Steve calls out after him.

Billy ducks down to see what he wants.

“Wednesday, wanna hang out again? I got nothing planned. We can go some place. Some place quiet. No people.” Steve sends him a smile he probably uses on chicks all the time.

Billy feels relief. “Sure.” He says. He can survive on his own until Wednesday. It's just three days. “I'll meet you at the basketball court.” If they continue to meet outside his house, then one day Steve will meet Billy's father and that is something Billy desperately wants to avoid. “Three, right?”

“Right.” Steve confirms, looking every bit as happy as the last time. 

Billy turns to leave, but Steve calls out for him yet again. Sighing, he ducks down once more. “What?”

Steve scrambles to find the right words. “It's just that... If you need anything, someone, a friend, you call me, right? I mean, it doesn't matter when, just call.” 

There is something in Steve's eyes... Something that makes Billy's stomach clench a little, but for once; not in a bad way.  
He nods, not trusting his voice, then walks away before Steve can say anything else.

Once inside, he finds Max alone in the living room, watching TV. He pauses by her and says; “That day, Friday, when it was raining...” Billy hears the car drive away. “You called him, didn't you?”

Max doesn't reply, but her face flushes red and she shrinks deeper into the sofa.

Billy nods, it's all the confirmation he needs, but he doesn't feel the usual spark of anger. “You shouldn't have done that.”

“I was worried.” She mutters, keeping her gaze stubbornly on the TV screen. She never used to worry about him before. Then she adds; “Are you two friends now? You've been hanging out a lot.”

Billy exhales. “Do me a favor and mind your own damn business, Max.”  
But because the words are spoken without any real ire, she merely glances up at him and gives him a smug smile.

Billy set course for his room to wait for Wednesday.

-

He almost makes it. He doesn't sleep much, he barely eats, he has two incidents when he thinks his heart is going to explode due to fear, but Billy hangs on because of Wednesday.

It's on Tuesday that everything goes wrong.

He is walking from the kitchen, aiming to flee to his room, when his father informs him that he and Susan are going out tomorrow and so Billy has to stay in and watch Max.  
“I've got plans,” Billy mumbles.

He doesn't really get a warning this time, some times his father will get that look on his face and Billy can see the attack coming, but now he is suddenly just slammed against the wall and his father holds him there with anger in his eyes.

“Then you cancel those plans.” Neil orders, voice dangerously loud. “You've been lazing about this house, doing nothing, ever since you came out of that damn hospital. It's time you started to contribute, Billy!”

When Billy was a little boy, he would try to fight his father. He would get between him and his mother and he would flail at the much larger man until he was beaten so badly he couldn't fight back. As years went by, after his mother left, Billy realized he couldn't win, there was no point, and he began to find ways to avoid getting beat up.

He learned not to fight back and never show weakness as that only provoked Neil further and meant more pain. As much as the fury burned inside him, Billy adapted and took the punches without flinching or tears, and found others weaker than him to vent on in turn.

But now everything he has learned flies out the window. The harsh grip Neil has on Billy's throat, the sharp edge of a table digging into his hip and the unyielding wall his head thumps against, it's too much after what he's been through and he automatically raises his hands to push Neil away.

That earns Billy a punch to the face, stunning him for a moment, and then Neil yanks Billy forward only to slam him back against the wall again. It sends a fire of agony burning through Billy's already tormented torso and dread through his brain.  
Billy gasps for air, in too much pain to actually make a sound, and his hands flies up to shove at his father again. He's too scared to think rationally; to know he's only making it worse.

A second punch and this time Billy can taste blood. 

Then his father places his arm across Billy's chest and leans hard to keep him against the wall. Billy can't prevent a pained wail when he feels the wounds tearing and opening.  
“Respect.” Neil snarls. “It's about damn time you started showing me some damn respect!”

Still not thinking, Billy merely reacts.  
He lands one hard punch to Neil's ribs and the unexpected move surprises the man enough for Billy to finally break free and make a run for the door.

He hears his father howling his name with pure rage, but Billy doesn't look back. He merely stalks down the driveway and away from the house on unsteady feet, breathing hard and trembling like crazy. His cheekbone is stinging, that is probably going to bruise, his lower lip is split, and he can feel his t-shirt stick to the wounds that has been pulled open again. It hurts like hell to breathe.

Billy walks and walks, aimlessly and mindlessly, simply set on getting away from the house, away from his father, and he only pauses when he finds himself by a gas station and a payphone.

Unfolding his right arm from his aching torso, Billy digs into the pocket of his jeans and finds a curled up piece of paper. He stares at it for a long time before he slowly makes his way over to the phone.

It's Steve's mother who answers the phone. Billy asks to speak to Steve and a few moments later, there is that familiar voice on the line.

“You said I could call...” Billy says, quietly and with defeat.  
“Yeah!” Steve says. “Yeah, and I meant it too. Are you okay?”

Billy stares at his reflection in the window, sees the blood on his face and the misery in his own eyes. “Not really.”

“Where are you?”

Billy tells him.

-

Billy is sitting on the curb outside the gas station, cradling his aching torso, when Steve's car pulls up next to him. He glances up, but doesn't move. He's not entirely sure he can.

Steve doesn't hesitate to get out of the car and quickly circles it to kneel down next to him. He sees the bruises, the blood and the posture of someone in pain. “Billy, what the hell? What happened?” He reaches out to touch Billy's face, remembers he's not supposed to and yanks his hand away again. “Dude, you don't go picking fights when you're in a messed up state already!”

Billy turns his face away. Maybe he did a mistake by calling Steve.

“Hey.” Steve's voice is softer now. “I'm sorry. I just, let's get you into the car.” He gets up and opens the passenger door, looks back at Billy and appears a little lost for what to do next. “Can you...?”

Billy turns his focus to the car. “I don't know...” He is reluctant to move, knows it will only start hurting like hell again, but the increasing panic on Steve's face forces him to act before he offers to call an ambulance or something.  
Billy was right; it does hurt like hell. But he does manage to make his way over to the car and fold himself into the passenger seat with a pained sound.

Steve closes the door, darts around to get behind the wheel again and soon they are leaving the gas station behind. While he doesn't say anything, Steve is constantly glancing over at Billy.

Billy who feels like he's just been attacked by the creature all over again, especially as he sees several spots of blood soaking his t-shirt where he knows the creature had cut into him. He gently places a hand to one of the spots and feels the sticky wetness of the shirt there.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Steve asks, shifting his tense grip on the steering wheel.

“Does it matter?” Billy mutters, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.  
“Depends.” Steve says. “On who it was who did this to you.”

Billy frowns and turns his face away to stare out the window next to him instead.

Exhaling, sounding more than a little frustrated, Steve then clears his throat and tries for a neutral voice. “I'm guessing you won't let me take you to the hospital... Do you want to come home with me, or do you want me to drop you off at your place?”

Billy instantly snaps his gaze over to Steve. “No. Not my place. I can't... I have to stay away for a couple of hours, at least.” Neil is usually calmer after a couple of hours.

Steve's face goes from confusion to horrified shock. “Your father? Your father did this to you?”

Turning to stare out the window again, Billy swallows hard. He's definitely made a mistake by calling Steve. Why the hell had he called Steve? Stupid! Just like his father always accuses him of being. “Stop the car.” It's getting difficult to breathe.

Steve shakes his head, still horrified. “We have to tell someone. I mean, if we talk to Hopper, he can-”  
“STOP THE CAR!” Billy roars. Red rage is flaring up inside him.

Startled, Steve pulls at the steering wheel and they swerve before he regains control and quickly pulls over at the side of the road.

Breathing hard, ignoring the raw agony in his chest and how he has split his lip open again, Billy is staring at the dashboard and tries to regain control of himself. He steals a glance over at Steve and is even more upset to find him looking even more worried instead of angry at the outburst. 

“Billy...” Steve begins. “You can't...”  
Billy turns to face him, feeling how he pulls at at least two of the wounds and making them bleed, but he doesn't care. He's too angry to care. “It's none of your business. Do you understand?”

Steve nods, clearly reading the danger signs radiating from Billy.

“And why do you care, anyway?” Billy sneers, reaching out a blood-stained hand and he grabs a harsh hold of Steve's jaw, the touch startling him further. “What is it that you're hoping to get out of this? Are you sweet on me, Steve? Is that it?”  
“I don't...” Steve says, but he is then silenced as Billy leans over and angrily covers his mouth with his to show him that he's not scared, of anything.

Steve has a pretty mouth, Billy noticed that back on the very first day he met him, but it feels tense and uncooperative under his, making a startled sound at the contact. Billy merely kisses him harder, tries to will him into submitting, but it's not working. Steve's hands come up to push at him. 

The touch snaps Billy out of his anger.  
Of course Steve doesn't want him. It only confirms what Billy already suspected; he doesn't even have his pretty looks to rely on anymore. It's official; Billy has absolutely nothing left.

Pulling away, Billy shoves open the door and gets out of the car.  
His body aches, he's bleeding, but it's still the rejection that stings the most as Billy stalks away from the car, crossing the field they'd stopped next to, ignoring Steve calling out his name.

-

Billy stays away from the house for four hours, a lot of the time is spent hiding from both his father and Steve Harrington, but eventually the cold and pain drives him home.

He's almost sick with relief when his father doesn't even acknowledge him when he enters the house and he's allowed to retreat to his room without any more trouble.  
Billy cleans up as well as he can, decides there isn't much he can do about the wounds on his torso that probably need stitches again, but at least they have stopped bleeding for now. He pulls on some clean clothes and curls up on his bed, once again trying to make himself as small as possible and refuses to shed the tears of hopelessness he can feel burning in his eyes.

Billy has no idea how long he's been lying like that when he suddenly becomes aware of a tapping sound. He sits up with a pained grunt, confused, until he realizes that the tapping comes from one of the windows in his room.

Getting out of bed, he makes his way over and pulls up the blinds.

Steve Harrington is right outside his window and gives him a faint wave.

Billy nearly panics. He glances over his shoulder, double-checking that his door is indeed closed, before he opens the window as quietly as possible and hisses; “What the hell are you doing here?”

Steve raises an eyebrow and sends him a dry look. “Well, you stormed off and didn't really let me explain, and then I couldn't find you, leaving me to wonder if you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere. So I have been driving by and looking for any signs of life in your damn room like some creepy stalker.” He huffs, then gestures towards the room. “You gonna invite me in?”

“No.” Billy replies, and then he's forced to move as Steve climbs in anyways. He shifts his weight uneasily, constantly casting glances towards the door and gestures for Steve to be quiet.

“I'm not an idiot.” Steve snaps annoyed, but in a low voice. His irritation seems to evaporate though when he then points to Billy's torso where the shirt is stained red. “You're bleeding again.”

Billy exhales and merely walks over to sit down on his bed. “What do you want?”  
Steve walks over as well and sits down next to him. “I told you, I wanted to make sure you were okay. And to explain.”

Shaking his head, Billy can't make himself look at him. “I was just messing with you. A bad joke.”

“Can I touch you?” Steve asks.

Now Billy glances over at him before he can stop himself. Steve doesn't look angry or annoyed or upset in anyway. He looks... calm.  
Billy nods.

He sees Steve reaching out his hand, but this time it comes up to gently cup the unharmed side of his face and Billy finds himself closing his eyes at the warm contact, spell-bound by it, and when he opens his eyes again; he's embarrassed to feel them welling up with grateful tears.

“You were upset in the car.” Steve says. “I wasn't sure if you meant...” He tilts his head a little, a lock of that ridiculous hair falling into his face. “Did you really _want_ to kiss me?”

Billy feels a tear break free and fall. He nods and waits for a second rejection, possibly humiliation, all because he can't lie to Steve Harrington anymore.

“Good.” Steve smiles a little, then he is the one leaning in.

This time Steve's lips feel soft and encouraging and perfect. Billy numbly follows his lead, keeps it soft and gentle, afraid to do something wrong and ruin it, but it continues in a sweet and safe slide.  
He's not even aware of his own hand coming up to anchor itself behind Steve's neck while their lips continue to explore each other.

He does feel Steve give a faint shiver when Billy can't quite contain his greed and gently urges Steve's mouth open and slides his tongue inside. Surprisingly enough, it still remains gentle, slow, even as Steve's own tongue comes into play, and for once in Billy's life; just kissing? It's enough. He doesn't need anything more than this right now.

It is Steve who reluctantly breaks the kiss after a small eternity, resting his forehead against Billy's and he seems to needs a moment to regain his ability to speak. “Okay, that was... Yeah...”

Billy wants to smile, amused. “Yeah. It was.” And it really was. He knows he'll have plenty of time to doubt what just happened later, but right now... it really was.

As much as he'd like Steve to stay, he has to usher him out a few moments later. Billy hears his father's voice and Steve frowns at the fear he can clearly see in his eyes, but he agrees to leave.  
“What about tomorrow?” Steve asks as he climbs through the window.

“I can't.” Billy admits, feeling both sad and poisoned by a sickening hatred of his father. “They're going out. I'm stuck here with Max.”  
“Max?” Steve grins. “Well then, no problem. I'll just come here. She won't mind.”

Billy hesitates, knowing this is a terrible idea, knowing only too well what it can result in, his father would actually kill him, but what was Neil Hargrove compared to the creature who had used Billy to murder all those people? “Okay.”

-

Billy wakes the next day from yet another nightmare. He's covered in sweat and blood, and he has a moment of panic when his legs are tangled in the sheets and he can't quite get free right away.  
Sitting up on the bed, pulling his hands through his wet hair, Billy feels how close to his limit he is.  
He's so exhausted that it is getting harder and harder to even _think_.  
His hands are trembling.

Billy makes his way to the shower and again; cleans himself up as best as he can.

It's late afternoon when there is a careful knock on his door and Susan's timid voice informs him that they are leaving. Billy pushes himself out of bed, hissing quietly at the burning pain in his wounds, and he has just opened the door when his father runs out of patience and is stomping down the hallway to intervene.  
Billy sees something close to disappointment when he finds his son ready to take on his baby-sitting duties.

Basically he has to relocate to the living room and sit there, waiting to serve if Max wants something, but Max herself is cooped up in her own room and talking on this walkie-talkie of hers. Billy relaxes slightly when his father and Susan leaves and tries to find a comfortable position on the sofa while he waits. Waits for Steve to appear, like he said he would.

Later Max makes an appearance to get herself a soda from the kitchen when there is a knock on the door. By the time Billy gets up from the sofa, Max has already darted over and opened it. He can hear her talking to Steve and then they both appear in the living room.

Steve's smile from his conversation with Max wavers a little at the sight of Billy, but he rallies quickly enough. Keeping his eyes on Billy, his words are meant for Max. “Mind if I have a word with your brother? Alone.”  
Max huffs, either annoyed by being asked to leave or the fact that Steve calls Billy her brother when he isn't, but she does leave, soda in hand.  
“Hey.” Steve says.

Billy nods a greeting. He doesn't quite like the way Steve is looking at him. Not like before, no, now he's looking at him with concern again. “What?”

“You're bleeding again.”

Blinking surprised, Billy glances down and sees, yes, his t-shirt is once again stained with blood. He must have pulled a wound open when he got up from the sofa. He clears his throat and looks back up at Steve. “It's nothing.”

Steve nods, utterly unconvinced. “Bathroom.” He says, gesturing for Billy to start walking.

Billy is not sure why he obeys, maybe he's just too tired to argue, but he goes to the bathroom, sits down on the edge of the bathtub and frowns at the small bag Steve has brought with him. “What is that?”

“I'm going to patch you up before you bleed to death.” Steve kneels down in front of him, opens the bag, revealing bandages and whatnots needed to clean wounds. “Strip.”  
Billy freezes.  
When there is no movement, Steve glances up at him. “If you don't want to go to the hospital, you gotta at least let me clean those wounds and put some bandages on.”

Billy shifts his gaze down to the floor and slowly wraps his arms protectively around his torso.

“What's wrong?” Steve asks.

“It's not...” Billy forces himself to say, “It's not pretty...” He used to be, his body used to be pretty, but not anymore. Now it is a hideous map of the injuries from the creature. Billy can't stand the sight of it, so he most certainly doesn't want to expose others to it.

“Billy...” Steve's voice is almost too gentle now. “You're bleeding. Let me help you. It's probably not even that bad to look at.”

“It is.” Billy insists quietly. “It's ugly.” _-I'm ugly_ , he nearly says.

“Let me see.”

Billy hesitates, then he remembers that he needs to push away Steve sooner or later to protect them both from his father, why not sooner? He closes his eyes and carefully, painfully, pulls off his t-shirt. Then he waits. And waits.  
When he can't hear Steve's reaction, Billy has to open his eyes.

Steve is staring at his chest. There is shock, yes, almost horror, but... not what Billy expected the most; disgust. Steve sees the twisted skin where the wounds have closed, the gaping holes of blood and flesh where the wounds have been torn open again, and the semi-healed, ragged mess at the top of his sternum where the creature rammed its final attack. Steve sees it all, and yet there is no disgust.  
“It's bad.” Billy whispers, miserably.

“It's bad.” Steve agrees, then lifts his gaze up to meet Billy's eyes. “But it's not ugly. _You're_ not ugly.”

It's a lie, Billy knows it's a lie, but he doesn't care. He sinks down in front of the already kneeling Steve and leans into him.  
When Steve's arms go around him, it doesn't feel scary or suffocating.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy tries to be a better person, Steve makes a mistake...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, at the end of this chapter, the rating goes up, because, well, Billy is Billy and he knows what he wants!

Steve is allowed to clean the wounds and add bandages. He has to help Billy up to sit on the edge of the bathtub again and starts working before he could change his mind.

“Where did you get all of this stuff?” Billy asks, trying to distract himself from the hurt as Steve dabs some disinfectant on a wound by his ribs.

Steve tenses up. “I, uh, from a... friend.”

Billy frowns, instantly suspicious. “Who?”

Sighing, Steve sits back on his heels and looks up at him. “Okay, but let me finish before you blow a gasket. Deal?”  
Billy's eyes narrow. “Answer the damn question.”

Steve puts the cap back on the bottle of disinfectant and picks up a large patch bandage to cover up the wound. He carefully makes sure it is securely attached to the skin before leaning back again. “I didn't mention your name. I didn't say anything specific.” Steve starts cleaning another wound. “So they don't know it is you.”

Billy can feel both anger and fear bubbling up inside him. “You _told_ someone?” As if he wasn't humiliated enough already?

“No!” Steve snaps, wiping away the final traces of blood and drying the skin. “Well, sort of.” He quickly places the patch on the skin before Billy can flinch away. “I needed some advice. I didn't know what to do. So,” Steve gulps down some air, “so I stopped by the Byer's house. After the Flayer destroyed Hopper's house, he and El has been living there, temporarily, they say, but I think they're there for good, I mean, anyone who has eyes and half a functioning brain knows that Will's mom and the chief have been checking each other out for...”

“You told the goddamn police?” Billy exclaims, adrenaline pumping. 

“No!” Steve snaps again. “Not... exactly. I didn't tell him your name. I just...“ He sighs and shrugs helplessly. “I didn't know what to do.” Steve fidgets with the empty bandage package. “I knew you were hurt and wouldn't go to the hospital. When I wouldn't give them your name, I just said some kid was hurt, that someone kept hurting him, no details, they explained to me about this stuff and what I could do.” He huffs a ghost of laugh. “Trust me, they were not happy when I wouldn't tell them who it was.”

Billy sneers a frustrated sound and forces himself up on his feet. “Hawkins is a tiny piece of shit place. They're going to take one look at me and they'll know!” He stalks over to the mirror, grabbing a hold of the sink in an effort to rein in his anger and despair. The only thing worse than his father smacking him around was the thought of everyone knowing.  
Why the FUCK had he called Steve that day?

“Billy...” Steve gets up and walks over to stand next to him. “They could help you.”

“No. They can't.” Billy grits out. He doesn't need this, not in addition to everything else. He draws a deep breath and lifts his head to look at Steve in the mirror. “He doesn't touch Max. He doesn't touch anyone else. Just me. He hates me. He always has. And he's not alone. A lot of people hate me, Steve. Me. Not him.” It has to be him, right? His father is a bastard, but he only hits Billy.

Steve steps closer and for the first time; Billy sees anger in his eyes. “I don't care what his excuses are; he has NO right to hit you. It's him, not you. Him!”

“If you tell them, or anyone else, I swear; I will kill you, Steve Harrington.” Billy states in a hoarse whisper.

It's an empty threat and they both know it.

“I won't tell them.” Steve promises, a touch of resignation to his voice now. “Can you please sit back down again so I can finish up?”

Billy stares at him in the mirror for a few moments longer, then he turns and shuffles back to sit on the edge of the bathtub and lets Steve continue cleaning him up.

-

They head back to the living room, occupy opposite sides of the sofa like they'd done at Steve's house, and watch TV. Billy is too tired to do much else and he's secretly grateful that Steve doesn't suggest anything else or expects any long conversations.

He's not entirely sure how it happens, but slowly Billy becomes aware of a couple of facts.  
One, he must have fallen asleep because his eyes are closed and the side of his face is against the backrest.  
Two, when he'd fallen asleep, he must have pulled his feet up on the sofa like he used to as a child, and now they are resting on top of something warm and solid, and he feels a distant amazement at the fact that he can actually recognize that it is Steve's hand resting on Billy's shin. He's willing to bet that Steve has no idea that he is rubbing soothing circles with his fingers.

Still more asleep than not, Billy can feel the corner of his mouth tug at a faint smile.

That is when he becomes aware of the voices. Steve is talking. To Max.

Realizing that means she is in the room, seeing him and Steve together like this, Billy's eyes snap open and he flails away so violently and abruptly that flashes of pain jabs through him from the agitated wounds Steve had tried to patch up earlier.  
He also startles Steve to the extent that he nearly falls off the sofa and Max drops her plate.  
Breathing hard, Billy stares wide-eyed from one to the other, trying to scramble up an excuse for why he was in such a compromising position.

 _-I can't believe you are my son. I never thought a son of mine would be this weak and pathetic_ , his father's voice spits with utter contempt.

“Why the fuck are you out of your room?” Billy shouts. Attack was always the best defense against anyone not his father. 

Max flinches, but Steve merely settles on the sofa again and calls for Billy's attention.  
“It's okay, Billy. It's okay.”

It's not! Billy glares over at Steve, heart racing, but he sees nothing but a calm reassurance in his eyes. Is it...?  
A quick glance at Max reveals that she is hastily gathering up the mess she'd dropped, and she seems more scared and disappointed than gleefully filled with the possibility of getting her revenge on Billy by telling Neil what she saw.  
Billy swallows hard and relaxes just the tiniest fraction. He absently places a hand to his ribs, feeling the burning pain but at least no blood seeping through the bandage yet.

When she's done cleaning up, Max leaves in a hurry to retreat to her own room and Steve sends Billy a disapproving look that he firmly ignores.

Sighing, Steve leans a little closer. “You didn't tear anything up again, did you?”  
Billy shakes his head. He thinks he did, but he'll die before he admits that to Steve.  
“Is it okay if I touch your arm, or are you going to try flying off the sofa again?” Steve asks.

Billy huffs a humorless laugh. “S'okay.” And shortly after, feels Steve's warm hand gently settling itself on his arm, his thumb stroking reassuringly at his skin.

“Max is not your enemy.” Steve says, quietly but confidently. “She's worried about you.”

Billy decides to look at Steve's hand on his arm and not at his face. “She's got plenty to get back at me for. She's probably sorry that the monster didn't kill me.” She and Billy both.

Steve's fingers dig lightly into his skin, revealing how little he likes to hear those words. “That's not true.” The fingers eases up again. “Just because you're a douche doesn't mean she wants you dead.”

Billy finds the courage to look at Steve's face at those words and he's relieved to see a smile there. “Fuck you,” Billy says, but it's soft and dangerously close to affectionate.

Steve breaks out in an all out grin and leans back with a shrug. “Just telling the truth.”

Billy makes an effort to glare at him, but it fails miserably and he takes his revenge by placing his legs over Steve's lap again instead. If anything, that only makes Steve's smile even more bright and Billy's stomach clench in that not-bad way again.

It only happens every century that his father and Susan are back on the time they say they will, but Billy can't risk it. He has to get Steve out of the house at least fifteen minutes before they said they'd be back. He doesn't want to, feels a sick urge to challenge his father by having Steve there when they step through the door, but Billy knows it would be pointless.

Just as Steve reaches for the door handle, Billy reaches out and sneaks a finger into the belt loop of Steve's jeans. He pulls lightly, halting Steve's movements, and keeps pulling until he turns to face him. Then, after a quick glance to make sure Max had not snuck out of her room again, Billy leans in to kiss him.

He has to know. Billy needs to know the kiss had not been a one-time thing, that Steve hadn't changed his mind, that he still wasn't disgusted by him, that this was now allowed.

Steve smiles surprised into the first touch, then his lips soften and shape to match his perfectly, and Billy shivers. For the first time in his life, he manages to block his father's voice inside his head.  
It takes everything he has to end the kiss, to not pull Steve close, to not ask for more, because suddenly he does want more. But Billy knows he can't. Not now. Not yet.

-

After Steve leaves, Billy heads for his room, but he finds himself hesitating in the hallway and ends up by Max' door instead. He takes a deep breath and gives the door a couple of light knocks.  
“What?” Max snaps.  
“It's me.” Billy says. “Open the door.”

She rummages about a bit in there and finally the door opens a crack, just enough for one suspicious eye to peer out at him. 

“I didn't mean to...” Billy begins, shifting his weight uncomfortably, looking everywhere except at that accusing eye. “I'm sorry, okay?”

The eye narrows. “You're sorry?”

Billy huffs. “Forget about it. I was just... Never mind.” He turns to leave when the door opens further and Max says; “Okay!” 

Glancing back at her, he sees Max swallow nervously but with hope in her eyes. Suddenly he feels guilty for all the times he'd taken out his anger on her. There were times when she was an annoying little shit, but wasn't that the duty of all children?  
Billy meets her gaze and gives a little nod, acknowledging her acceptance of his apology, then he flees back to his room before he could risk seeing his father.

Neil Hargrove is two hours late, but he doesn't go anywhere near Billy's room so Billy considers it a good day.

It's not a good night. He can't sleep, twisting and turning in bed, sweating and increasingly angry with his aching wounds, and only drifts off once dawn is breaking outside his window.

Billy dreams. He watches the darkness creep through his veins as he sleeps and how the monster gains control of him again. He tries to fight, in vain, as it makes his body move and heads out to find new victims to add to its army.

He sees Heather staring up at him, terrified, and there is nothing he can do to help her.  
He'll never forget her eyes.

Billy screams and screams for someone to save him, but no one can hear him.

The creature steps out of the shadows and reaches out.

 _”No, not that one, you idiot.”_ It suddenly says, it's voice twisted, strange. A rumble mixed with something high pitched. _”The other one. The one to you left! Are you serious?”_  
Then its voice changes. _”How am I supposed to know? I've never done this before!”_

Billy frowns, confused, and he wakes up. He's sweating and his heart is racing, but the most unsettling part is that he can still hear the voices. Not so twisted, now merely high pitched. 

He forces himself out of bed, pressing a hand to his aching ribs, feels the soaked bandage, and makes his way over to the window. The voices are coming from outside?  
Billy stands and stares for a long while at the sight that meets him.

Around, inside and actually on top of his Camaro; Max and her friends.

He gets dressed and then Billy steps outside. He sees the kids surrounding and covering his car like ants, hood popped, tools scattered on the ground and they are too busy arguing to even notice him.  
“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Billy growls, coming to a halt at a safe distance.

Everyone freezes and stares back at him with wide, frightened eyes. Good. Well, everyone except that girl, the one the creature wanted, she merely stares at him and Billy can't read her gaze.

Just as he was going to repeat his question and add a threat of violence, the hood of the Camaro closes and Steve appears from behind it.  
“Hey!” He greets Billy as if this was a perfectly normal situation. “So, good news, I think we can get her going again.”

Billy stares at him, at his expectant face, and has absolutely no idea how to react. A part of him wants to explode, but he's tired and a more rational part of his brain points out that, again, it's well meant. “The chassis is too bent out of shape,” he replies stupidly.

The girl, what is her name, reaches out a hand and suddenly the side of the Camaro pops out again like it had never been damaged at all.

Silence follows. No one moves.

Billy decides he needs a cigarette. He hasn't smoked since he came out of the hospital, but suddenly he craves the nicotine with desperation. Billy turns on his heel and heads back inside the house.

-

He tells himself he's not hiding, sitting inside the living room, smoking like he's getting paid to do so, but Billy knows it's a lie. Also, he can't prevent himself from wandering over to windows and glancing out at them from time to time, listening to them argue about how to do the repairs.

But Steve is out there. Inside the house are just bad memories.

Billy eventually heads outside again, sitting down a small distance away from them, there he watches and smokes. He hardly believes it when one of the little shits actually comes over to complain about his cigarette. For some reason, he puts it out anyway.

It doesn't become any less surreal when they break for lunch and everyone gathers around where he's sitting to eat, talking merrily amongst themselves, and Steve even offers Billy a sandwich.

“Did you know Steve finally won a fight?” The curly haired boy asks Billy like they are friends.

“Hey!” Steve exclaims. “I'll have you know, I've won fights before.”

“He beat your ass.” The Sinclair boy says, pointing a thumb at Billy, who feels a jab of guilt at the memory. He'd been so damn furious due to his father that he'd pummeled Steve to a pulp.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn't say I won all of them.” He didn't seem to linger at the memory at all. “But how many of you can say that you fought off demodogs with a baseball bat, hmm?” He waves his own sandwich at the boy. “Hah!”  
And after they've eaten, they gather up their things and go back to crawling all over his car and Billy isn't sure he's not still dreaming.

It doesn't get any easier to believe when they all come back the next day or the day after that, determined to finish what they set out to do. (Billy's father remarks how pathetic it is for Billy to have kids working on his car, if he was a real man; he'd fix it himself.)

Billy doesn't say much, hangs back most of the time, watches them work, but on the third day he can't help himself and starts correcting the little rats when they do something wrong. He makes sure to appear anything but friendly, but it still perceived as a green light for them to talk to him too, for some reason. Mostly it is the curly haired one, Steve's favorite; Dustin.  
If not for how it clearly pleases both Steve and Max, Billy would have corrected this mistake. 

Instead he finds himself lured closer and closer to the car until he's shoulder by shoulder with them. He can't do much of the heavy work, his wounds will pull and bleed if he tries, but he can order the others around and that suits him fine.

However, his favorite moments are when the kids heads home and it's just him and Steve left. They don't talk much, Billy is usually exhausted because of those kids, he still barely sleeps at nights, but there is time for a stolen kiss or two that makes the forced socialization worth it.

Then Chief Hopper rolls up one day and Billy feels a jolt of fear. What? Why is he there? Does he know?

But Hopper merely parks his police car in the driveway and saunters over to the kids under the pretext that El forgot her sandwich.  
Once that is delivered and she has rolled her eyes at his excuse, he eyes the Camaro they're working on and reluctantly admits they've done a good job so far.

Standing in the doorway to the house, Billy does the mistake of relaxing as he sees the cop is only interested in making sure his daughter isn't off some place sucking the face off her boyfriend, and that means he is completely unprepared for the hand that grabs a hold of his shoulder and shoves him hard against the door frame.

Grunting with pain, Billy clenches his hands into tight fists and keeps himself still due to pure willpower. Chin up, he stares at his father, tense and waiting for whatever will come next.

“What did you do?” Neil snarls. “Why is there a cop here? What did you do this time, Billy?”

“I didn't...” Billy begins, but his father merely shoves him against the door frame again and he has to close his eyes against the burning pain in his torso.  
“Hey!” Hopper's voice snaps.  
Billy opens his eyes, glances over at the Chief and in one horrifying moment; he can see the pieces fall into place for Hopper as he realizes just who Steve was talking about. Oh no... Please, no.

“What did he do, officer?” Neil asks, not taking his eyes off Billy and brimming with anger.

Hopper is stalking towards them and before anyone can react, he grabs a hold of Neil Hargrove's shirt-collar and shoves him against the opposite side of the door frame, holds him there and towers over him.

-

Billy stares, horrified and transfixed. With Hopper's massive size, suddenly his father looks tiny and weak.

"If you hit that boy one more time, I will know,” Hopper growls, tightening his grip. “I will know and I will come back here. Do you understand?”

Billy's father is completely shell-shocked, but he tries to recover. “You can't talk to me like that!”

“I'm a cop. I know how to make people disappear and get away with it, especially someone who nobody would miss or mourn, **that's** what you should be worried about, not how I talk.” James Hopper is furious. “Now, tell me you understand me; you will never hit that boy again.”

“I don't know who has been telling you lies...” Neil snarls, but then he is shoved against the door frame again and he's the one who grunts with pain.

“Don't.” Hopper warns. The threat of violence in his words and his eyes far outweighs what Neil can conjure up and finally the smaller man gives a faint nod.  
“I will know. And I will come back.” The Chief reminds him, threatens him, using every bit of his intimidating stance to underline the seriousness of his words. And only when Neil nods again does he release him with a sound of contempt.

Billy realizes that he is dead. His dad is going to kill him. The second everyone leaves, his father is going to beat him to death.  
In desperation, he glances over at Steve, finds him equally stunned and wide-eyed, and he hates the fact that he came into Hawkins with an attitude to replace the king rather than seeking Steve's friendship from the start. Maybe things could have turned out differently.

Billy is so lost in his own dread that he barely reacts to Hopper placing his big hand on his shoulder and how he guides him away from the doorway until they are at a somewhat safe distance from the livid Neil.  
“You got some place to go tonight?” Hopper asks.

“Yes.” Steve shoots in before Billy can reply. He steps up next to him and Hopper. “He can stay with me.”

The Chief nods, then turns to Max. “You can stay with us.”

Max tries a faint smile. “It's okay. I'm okay. My mum... and he won't... Not with me.” 

Billy glances back at his father and sees the seething fury there. His father **will** kill him for this. But he still follows Steve to his car and gets in, pretending not to see the shocked stares of the other children. 

At the Harrington house, Steve spins some story to his parents as to why Billy has to spend the night. His parents who seems not to care all that much anyways, more content to mind their own business than pry into Steve's.  
Billy expects to be bundled into one of the guestrooms, so he is surprised when Steve ushers him into his room but quickly concludes that he probably wants to keep an eye on him.

“You can take the bed.” Steve says, throwing a blanket down on the floor.

Billy scoffs. “Not a chance.” He shakes his head at Steve's glaring. “I'm not stealing your bed.”

“Fine.” Steve says, not looking at him, his voice light with fake courage. “Then we share the bed.”

“Okay.” Billy has absolutely no problem with that. Steve's touch is fine.

Steve sends him a curious look, but clearly decides that he's content with whatever he sees in Billy's eyes and nods. “Okay.”

They have to join Steve's parents for dinner, but Billy switches on the charm he's learned to use when he wants something and he smoothly ignores the unsettled look Steve sends him as his parents fall head over heels for the fake facade he sets up.  
This evening, this night, Billy gets to pretend. He gets to ignore his pain, his fear, and pretend everything is fine. He's a dead man walking, so he gets to pretend, dammit!

And when it is finally time for them to go to bed, Billy adamantly refuses to let Steve check and change the bandages, as he strongly suspects that at least one wound is infected and he doesn't want to waste time on that.  
Billy knows he's got so little time left and he wants to spend it doing a lot more interesting things.

He strips down to his t-shirt and his underwear and crawls into bed, hating how it is still painful to move but refusing to let it stop him.

This one night. He gets to have this one night.

-

Steve turns off the light and crawls into bed as well, but keeps modestly to his side of the bed and it is unfortunately big enough for the two of them not to touch unless they choose to.  
Billy chooses to. On his side, facing him, he reaches out and brushes his fingers over Steve's shoulder. “Hey. Why are you all the way over there?”

Steve huffs a laugh. “I wasn't sure if...” But then Billy's fingers tug lightly at him and he's eagerly scooting closer; close enough for them to brush against each other all over. He seems nervous though, eyes flickering. “I haven't done this before, though.” And adds; “With a...”

Billy leans over, kisses him and Steve instantly melts into it. They've become pretty good at this, kissing, and Billy is pretty sure they'll be excellent at everything else too.

And here, in the semi-dark, with just the two of them, everything else blocked out, it is easy to forget and just feel. Billy loves how eager and receptive Steve's mouth it, he loves the taste of Steve's neck under his tongue and how his body moves under Billy's hands as they explore.

Steve is no dainty flower, he feels solid and strong under his touch, very different from the girls Billy has been dabbling with since he arrived in Hawkins, and he responds beautifully. Billy can feel him hardening against him and he is thrilled at the sensation of it.

The only thing Billy hates is how restricted his own movements are. He wants to roll on top of Steve, wants to hold him down and grind his hips against his, have his legs around his waist, _feel_ his hardness and his desperation, but pain keeps shooting through him if he isn't careful.

Still, there is a growing hunger to Steve's kisses. When Billy wedges a thigh between his and gives him a little pressure where he wants it the most, Billy will never forget the half-choked and desperate sound Steve makes. It's almost as sweet as the desperation on his flustered and so very pretty face.

Oh, all the things he could have done to Steve if only he could move like he usually does. Instead, Billy is forced to hold back, to place his hand on Steve's hip and encourage him to move against him while attacking his neck with open-mouthed kisses. 

Steve's hands dart from place to place on Billy's body, seemingly scared to hold on too tightly in case he'd hurt him, and yet they are momentarily bold when they grab a handful of Billy's ass to tug him even closer against himself and the hardness there.

The contact drags a deep-throated groan from Billy as mindless want overrules his iron will for a second and suddenly this isn't enough. Nowhere near enough.

Billy tugs at Steve's t-shirt and it hasn't even touched the floor before his hands and mouth are all over Steve's skin. When Steve tries to return the favor, clearly eager to get his own hands on his mangled hide, Billy distracts him by easing Steve's underwear down and out of the way. Seconds later, his hand is on his cock and Billy is fairly certain Steve isn't able to remember his own name at the moment, much less remember to insist on Billy getting undressed.

He hears Steve's pretty mouth breathe a filthy curse into his ear when he starts moving his hand, and it makes his own, now painfully hard, cock twitch. But Billy keeps his focus on getting Steve off first. He always makes sure his partner comes first. Always. He works him with determination.

When Steve is so close that he is basically whining on every exhale, that's when Steve's hands suddenly go for Billy's underwear and pulls it out of the way to get at him in turn and whatever plan Billy had; it flies out the window. There is no hesitation in Steve's touch, his fingers wrap around his straining cock and he just drags him along with him into the insanity.

It's not how Billy prefers it; it is slightly awkward with them both on their sides, facing each other, squeezed together, and him restrained by his wounds, but it is still goddamn perfect, so good...

There is no warning, one moment he's struggling to keep it at bay, then Billy suddenly comes harder than he has in a long time, like a goddamn newbie. He shudders and shakes with the pleasure and the intensity of it all, and luckily it seems to be the thing to push Steve into his release as well as there is an answering gasp and heat spilled seconds later.

There is a moment of calm once the urgency is gone, with Steve holding on to Billy's shoulders as if he's worried that Billy is going to flee, and Billy leaning into Steve because he's worried that he'll push him away, but eventually Steve makes a face at the mess between them and decides to do a bit of damage control.

Billy merely adjusts his clothes and scoots over to the other side of the bed and lets him deal with the clean-up. He's too busy enjoying what he can see of a naked Steve Harrington in the darkness to actually help, in addition to how he now can feel the complaints from his wounds, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Billy firmly ignores the pain and watches with regret as Steve pulls his underwear and t-shirt back on, but he's quickly mollified as Steve slides under the sheets next to him, feeling warm and pliant, and places an arm carefully, but securely around Billy.

Billy feels safe.  
For this one night, he allows himself to feel safe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy does something stupid and Steve gets a surprise visit

“Why did you come to the hospital?” Billy asks into the darkness, lying on his back with Steve curled up to his side, arm over Billy's stomach.

Steve, almost asleep, opens his eyes and hesitates. “I told you.”

“Yeah.” Billy replies. “But why did you, really?”

Another moment of hesitation, then Steve tells the truth. “Will Byers, he got possessed by the Flayer too. We thought we'd gotten it out of him, but turned out... it was still there.”  
Billy tenses up, hearing his worst fear confirmed. The creature could still be in him.  
“But we got rid of it for real later.” Steve quickly adds, lifting himself up on his elbow to look down at Billy. “We just wanted to make sure that you didn't...”

“And are you?” Billy glances over at him, feeling numb. “Are you sure it's gone?” He's not.

Steve reaches out and gently brushes a lock of Billy's hair away from his forehead, cups his face, holds his gaze. “I'm sure.” He tries and fails at a smile. “Listen, I was just meant to drop by once or twice to check and make sure. It became a hell of a lot more than that because I saw someone who needed a friend. I saw someone who was not a monster.”

Billy swallows hard, wanting to believe and afraid to. “I keep dreaming about it. What if it is still here?”

“It's not.” Steve insists, his hand making Billy keep eye contact with him. “I would know. And if that's not enough, Will has a way of sensing the Flayer because of his possession by it. And he says he's not felt anything since we killed it at the mall.”

Could it really be true? Were the nightmares just that; nightmares? Was he really free? Billy draws a shivering breath, blinking away those damn tears again, and he tries to act unfazed. “Oh, well, if one of your children says its dead, then it must be dead. I wouldn't want to question one of your kids and their superpowers.” He'd seen what that girl could do.

Grumbling embarrassed, Steve releases him and inches down to rest his head to Billy's shoulder again. “At least they're not douchebags.”

Billy feels a flicker of amusement. “Go to sleep, Harrington.”

“You're hot.” Steve suddenly states.  
“Thanks.” Billy replies automatically.  
“That's not what I meant, you idiot, even if that is true too.” Steve sits up and looks down at him. “You're really hot.” He reaches out and places his hand to Billy's forehead, where it is quickly slapped away. “Are you running a fever?”

“I'm fine.” Billy lies. He reaches out and tugs Steve down again. “Go to sleep.”

Steve is quiet and still after that, and Billy thinks he obeyed for once and has gone to sleep, but then Steve speaks up again.  
“I'm sorry about today. I swear I didn't tell him your name.”

Billy sighs and absently lifts a hand to play with Steve's ridiculous hair, now even fluffier and wilder than usual. “I know. It's fine.” It's not, it's nowhere near fine, but he doesn't want to think about that now. “So, shut up and get your beauty sleep, King Steve.”  
“You're never going to let me forget about that nickname, are you?”  
“Not a chance.”

Some time after that, Steve does fall asleep. Billy hears his breathing deepen and even out and he finds comfort in listening to him. Billy feels exhausted, his body aches, but he knows he's not going to get any sleep this night.

The hours crawl by, he switches between thinking about how he had been looking forward to the summer once he secured the lifeguard job and all the plans he had for these months, to remembering the face and despair of every single person the creature made him bring to it, to merely watching Steve and occasionally trailing light fingertips over his skin.

Billy also thinks about California. His paradise, where he was surrounded by beautiful girls and partied all night long. Where a lovely dark haired boy caught his attention and Billy had found himself curious about the thing his father expressly FORBADE. He quickly discovered that it wasn't all that different kissing a boy to kissing a girl, it was good either way, and it was easier to manipulate a body similar to his own as he knew what felt good. They never got serious, never did more than kiss and touch, but it was fun.  
Then the rumors began. 

It all went wrong when someone he thought was a friend, Christian, did the mistake of repeating those rumors during a party, giving Billy no choice but to fight him and save his reputation. The thought of his father hearing what Christian was saying drove Billy to keep punching, long after Christian couldn't fight back. And Billy continued punching until someone dragged Billy away, and then he fought them too. He didn't stop until the cops arrived and made him.

Billy's father was furious anyway. He beat Billy until he bled for beating that boy so badly he ended up in the hospital. After that, Billy was only allowed out of the house to go to school or to drive Max from place to place. No surfing, no parties, no nothing. And then came the worst punishment; they were moving to Hawkins. 

Billy had ranted and raged, taken one beating after another, trying to make his father change his mind, but in vain. Billy had been certain that moving to Hawkins would be the end of him, he just hadn't known how right he'd turn out to be.

-

It's tempting to give Steve a final kiss, but he doesn't want to risk waking him up. Billy allows himself a few more moments of watching him sleep instead, then he gets out of bed, gets dressed and sneaks out of the Harrington house.

It's a long walk home, but he's in no hurry. It's a bit like watching himself go to his doom from outside his own body.

It's a cool summer morning, yet Billy is sweating. He's tired, nauseous and his wounds are throbbing. He's strangely out of breath even though he's just walking.

When Billy makes his way up the driveway to his home, he knows it is just in time to walk in on his father having his breakfast before heading off to work.  
Opening the door and going inside, he finds his dad by the kitchen table and Susan nervously hovering by his side in case he wants something, and Billy grants them both a wide smile. “Good morning, dad. Good morning, Susan.”

Susan looks like a startled deer caught in headlights. His father's eyes show a brief moment of surprise before they narrow with contempt. “You actually dare to show your face here again, Billy?”

Billy shrugs. “Where else would I go?”

“What about your faggot friend?” His father snarls.

“Which one?” Billy counters, leaning forward with a smile that is more baring of teeth than anything else. He's done hiding. Even though the rational part of his brain is _screaming_ for him to shut up, to quietly slink back to his room and pray that Hopper's threat is enough to keep him away, Billy feels weird, almost drunk, and couldn't care less.  
Neil gets up from his chair so quickly it screeches against the tiles and Billy automatically straightens and backs up a step. He knows what is coming and braces himself.

Instead, to his surprise, he can see his father swallowing down the urge to unleash his anger and merely gives a sharp nod for him to get to his room. “Get out of my face.”

Exhaling an incredulous laugh, Billy realizes something. “You're actually scared of him...” And the deep red flush flaring up in his father's face confirms it; he's scared that James “Jim” Hopper will come back. The big bad Neil Hargrove is afraid. And just like that; the monster is merely a coward. Billy laughs again, ignoring Susan's desperate face and the shiver that goes through his father. “You are scared that Chief Hopper will find out and beat your chickenshit ass!”

He doesn't see his father move, but Billy certainly feels it when his backhand connects with his face. Still, staggering back, blood running from both of his nostrils, Billy can't stop laughing. 

His father's fist is next to connect with his face and it knocks him on his back. Billy lands hard, his head thumping against the floor, and he's not laughing anymore. He's coughing, bleeding, hurting, the room is spinning, and then...  
He can't breathe.

He hears Susan crying out, he sees the shocked expression on his father's face, he thinks Max is screaming his name, she must have heard him come in and peeked out of her room again, but Billy is distracted by the way the world begins to shake. Or is it him? Oh, fuck, he really can't breathe, everything is now shaking uncontrollably, and then, abruptly; everything goes pitch black.

This darkness feels good. No pain, no fear, just a whole lot of nothing. Billy decides he wants to stay. He likes it. It's nothing to fear here. No monsters of any kind. No guilt. Just quiet.

He has no idea how long he's allowed to savor his new found peace before he becomes aware of a sound. A beep, a continuous interval of beeps, and eventually he gets so annoyed that he tries to find out where it is coming from.  
That is also when he becomes aware of something by his nose, the ache in his body and how it hurts to breathe.

Oh no... No, he doesn't want to wake up... Please... 

In addition to the beeps, Billy can now make out someone talking in a low voice. He knows that voice.  
Steve.

Against his better knowledge, Billy automatically tries to open his eyes. It takes several attempts, but finally the light returns with his blurry eyesight and he has to blink a couple of times to focus enough to identify the shape standing nearby as Steve. 

Steve is talking to someone. Billy slowly drags his gaze over to the person Steve is focusing on and is numbly surprised to realize that it is Susan. In front of her, secure in her mother's arms; Max.

This is when Billy realizes he's in a hospital bed. The beeping sound is a heart monitor and the stuff by his nose is an oxygen tube.  
Fuck.  
He closes his eyes again, trying to go back to the darkness, but his body won't allow it.

A half-choked sound of misery escapes from his throat before he can stop it and Billy hears Steve calling out his name, hears him move and soon feels the now familiar touch on his arm.  
“Billy?”

Billy forces his eyes open again and sees Steve staring at him with those worried eyes of his. Eyes that fill with unspeakable relief when he realizes that Billy is indeed awake.

“Billy?” Max' voice comes from the other side of the bed and he slowly rolls his head over to look at her. She's crying. 

“M'fine.” He has to try twice before he can slur out the barely intelligible words.

“Well, you will be.” Steve corrects, trying to sound unfazed and failing completely. “You're on some heavy antibiotics.”

Billy turns to look at him again. “What...” What happened? Why is he in the hospital?

“You knew the wounds were infected, didn't you?” Steve says, a touch of blame in his voice and his eyes. “That's why you wouldn't let me change the bandages. But I have no idea why you decided to go back home...”

He'd gone back home? Billy struggles to remember. He remembers Hopper threatening his father, going to Steve's house and, well, discovering that they were every bit as good at other things as they were at kissing, but after that...

“The doctors said you had a really high fever...” Susan's timid voice pipes up.

Billy decides he doesn't care. He can feel the darkness creeping up on him again and he's most willing to disappear into it again.  
He closes his eyes and returns to the nothingness.

-

The next time he wakes up, it's dark outside and Steve is asleep by the bed.

Billy watches him for a long while, sees the pretty face now looks exhausted too, and he knows he's to blame for that as well. Everything Billy touches; he ruins.  
“Go home.” Billy mumbles. He suspects it must be in the middle of the night. Steve should be at home, asleep in his own bed, not sit and sleep slumped over in a horrid hospital chair.

The sound of Billy's voice makes Steve wake with a snort and he sits up abruptly, looking around a little bewildered before he remembers and focuses on Billy. “You're awake?” He says, voice rusty with sleep, and he absently rubs one eye. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah...” Billy replies. “I need you to go home.”  
Steve blinks. Confused. “Why?”  
Closing his eyes, frustrated, Billy doesn't want to say it out loud. It's bad enough to think it; that Steve shouldn't waste his time on him. “I don't need no goddamn baby sitter, Harrington. Go home.”

“I'm going to take a hold of your hand, okay?” Steve says, and then gently slides his hand under Billy's, carefully curling his fingers around his and not jolting the IV line there. “What's wrong?”

Exhaling, Billy glances over at him again, tries to infuse a little anger into his voice. “You shouldn't be here.”  
“Why not?”  
Now Billy doesn't have to fake the anger. “Because you're acting like you're sweet on me. Again. People are going to start talking.”

Steve stubbornly doesn't flinch. His dark eyes meet him straight on. “What if I am?”

Now it is Billy's turn to get confused. “What?”

Snorting a laugh, Steve shakes his head a little. “Come on. Really? You think I'd let any guy into my bed and my pants?”

Billy struggles to process the claim. Because it can't be true. “I killed those people,” he says.  
“No.” Steve counters. “The Flayer did.”  
“I brought them there.”  
“The Flayer made you.”  
“I beat you up, remember?”

Steve gives him a wry smile. “I remember.” But he doesn't seem angry. “Are you sorry?”

“What?” Billy is getting increasingly frustrated. Steve is not making sense. He shouldn't be sitting here arguing, he should be going home and leave Billy to deal with his own mess. Despite this, Billy can't lie to him. Not anymore. “Of course I am. But that doesn't change the fact that...”

Steve grins. “You're sorry, I forgive you, moving on.” He laughs a little at the confusion on Billy's face. “Listen, believe it or not, but King Steve? He was quite the douche too. That's why I decided to change. What you need to do is decide where you wanna go from here, man. Do I like you? Yeah. Yeah, I do. I really do. A lot. But I wanna hang out with the Billy I've gotten to know lately, not the asshat that I first met. So, I'm your friend no matter what, but it would be nice to know if what we did was a one-time-thing or not.”

Billy opens and closes his mouth a couple of times. His mind is nothing but static.

Steve gives his hand a light squeeze, completely unfazed. “It's okay. Think about it. Let me know.” He then lets go and Billy misses his touch with a sudden and sharp desperation. He needs his calm. He needs it, because what Steve just offered him... it terrifies the hell out of Billy.  
But Steve merely leans back on the horrid chair, gets comfortable, or as comfortable as possible, and closes his eyes to get some more sleep. 

Like the first time they met in the hospital, Billy lies staring up at the ceiling. He is torn between refusing to think and thinking too much. And he can hear his father's voice whispering in the back of his mind. Billy knows it won't take much before that whispering becomes screaming.  
And if he was to seriously consider... what Steve said, Billy's father will do a lot more than scream in real life. 

So why can't Billy just settle with the fact that it is impossible? Why can't he stop hearing Steve's voice saying those words? Why does it hurt to think about letting him go? He can't be with Steve, Billy knows that, his dad would never allow it. Neil would rather move the entire family again, so why can't Billy just accept that?  
Steve would be better off without him too. Billy knows he's not a good person, not like Steve, he doubts he even has the capability to be that good, but he also has blood on his hands due to the creature and his body is ruined by scars. Steve deserves better.

Billy closes his eyes, remembering the time when he had loved everything about himself and saw the world as his playground instead of something dark and terrifying. Even his father had been easier to deal with when he could distract himself with either girls, working out or parties.  
After the creature took control of him, Billy wonders if it did kill Billy Hargrove and he's merely the husk wandering around in his place. 

Billy shivers, clenches his jaw to stay quiet and lets the tears escape from his tightly shut eyes.

-

Steve leaves early the next morning when the nurses come in with breakfast and to draw some blood from Billy. He's all smiles and even gives Billy a cheeky wink before heading home, but not before promising that he'll be back later.

Several hours later, when Billy is drowsing, he hears voices approaching and he merely assumes it is Steve, so he's more than a little surprised to see Joyce Byers and her son, followed by Chief Hopper in his police uniform.

Sitting up, Billy watches them with confusion and awkwardly accepts the magazines and candy Joyce hands him. Her eyes are brimming with sympathy and he is completely unprepared for when she cups his face and pulls him forward a little so she can press a kiss to his forehead.  
“I'm so sorry,” she whispers against his skin.

“Mum!” Will exclaims, horrified. 

Releasing him, Joyce backs away with a sheepish laugh, but her eyes are still filled with a maternal urge to make everything right. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” She waves her hands a little. “It's just... First that creature tormented him, then they move here and the Flayer possesses him like it did my boy...”

Hopper clears his throat, saving a shell-shocked Billy from having to answer, and takes a step forward. “Joyce, I, uh, forgot the sodas in the car. Would you mind getting them? And, Will, maybe you could help?”

Joyce glares up at him. “You could just say that you want to talk to him alone, you know?” But she grabs her son, sends Billy one final look, then disappears out the door.

Billy, wondering what the hell they were giving him through that IV that clearly had him hallucinating, shifts his gaze over to Hopper and braces himself for whatever bad news he's there to deliver.

Hopper clears his throat again, removes his hat and pretends to study it. “So, uh, they say you're going to be back on your feet in a couple of days.” He quickly shifts his gaze up to Billy, as if to charge into battle. “After the ambulance brought you here, I had a little talk with your father.”

Tensing up even more, Billy can't quite decide whether that is good or bad news. A part of him hopes Hopper did make his father bleed, but the rational part wails with worry about how much trouble Billy will be in once he's out of the hospital. “It was my fault,” he hears himself say. “I opened my big mouth and... It was my fault.” You don't involve strangers in family business, his father had taught Billy that, quickly harshly, at a very young age. Especially when the doctors came with x-rays and talked about his new, and his several old, spiral fractures.

Hopper looks down at his hat again and gives a wry smile, shaking his head, before he focuses on Billy again. “Like I said, I had a little talk with him. And we've come to an agreement.” The tall policeman takes another step closer, keeping eye contact. “Neil has agreed to a job that requires him to leave town for a while. A long while. Now, because Max still attends school here and you got a job here, Susan says she'll stay with you two in Hawkins. So you don't have to worry, okay?”

Stunned, unable to believe what he's just been told, Billy says the first stupid thing that comes to his mind; “I don't have a job.” If they haven't fired him from the pool, which he's pretty sure they have as he hasn't shown up in ages, he's never going back there.

“About that...” Hopper is back to staring at his hat. “I checked and it seems that we could use a little help at the station.”

Billy's heart is racing and he's starting to feel dizzy. He frowns. “Why are you helping me?”

That brings Hopper's gaze back to Billy's face and he is one hundred percent serious when he replies: “You saved my daughter's life.” There is a fierce, almost angry, definitely stubborn, gratitude in his eyes. “El told me. You prevented that thing from killing her.”  
Billy swallows hard. “She saved me first.”  
“I still owe you. So what do you say?”

He has no idea what to say, and he's saved by Joyce Byers' return. She enters the room and shoves a bottle at Hopper. “Here.” And then walks over to hand Billy one. “Here you go. Do you need anything else?”

Billy shakes his head. He's still struggling to process what he's already been given. A second chance. But does he really deserve it?

“It will get better.” A voice suddenly says. Will Byers has occupied the chair Steve had spent the night in and he's watching Billy with eyes that had shared his own horror of being possessed by the creature. “It won't go away. But it will get better.”

Looking Will, believing him, Billy leans back against the pillows and feels a little better.

-

Hours after the trio has left, Steve returns. He still looks a little tired, but he lights up when Billy tells him that Hopper has more or less kicked his father out of Hawkins, that Billy can stay and that he is offered a job at the police station.  
They don't talk about what Steve had mentioned earlier.

Susan and Max visit later and Billy is almost happy to see them. Susan is as timid as ever, but she expresses a hope that the three of them can make a good life for themselves in Hawkins. Billy promises to behave. Max declares she doesn't believe him for a second, the little shit.

Billy is so busy digesting everything that has happened that he doesn't realize, until long after she had replaced his IV and left, that the blonde nurse on duty had spent an awful long time in his room and kept giggling at the most inane things and was actually flirting with him.  
Once Billy realizes this, he can't help a faint smile at the stupid relief. Still a pretty face, then.  
He can work with that. Even if he's not a good person and his body is ruined, he still has his face.

The hospital insists on keeping him for two more days, then he is finally allowed home, as long as he promises to continue his antibiotic treatment. They were worried about his constant nightmares and how he barely sleeps, but Billy lies and says he's better and they reluctantly let him go.

Susan offers to pick him up, but he's already arranged for Steve to drive him. They still haven't talked about that thing, but Steve acts like he is okay with it and while Billy is secretly terrified of the day when he won't be okay with it anymore, he prefer Steve's company to everyone else's.

Steve is the one who finally makes him laugh again by telling him some stupid story from his school days, and for the first time since before the creature; Billy laughs. He's not even aware of laughing until he sees Steve looking at him with such genuine happiness that it takes his breath away.  
For one moment, one heart-stopping and thrilling moment, he thinks Steve is going to kiss him again. But he doesn't. Steve's smile turns a little sad, for some reason, and he starts talking about something else.

Hopper keeps his word. Billy can hardly believe it when he is handed his uniform and he only sulks a little at the fact that he doesn't get a gun. He knows the job is something Hopper made up, but the uniform and the power that follows with it is real.  
Too bad Hopper won't allow him to use it much off-hours. Due to Steve getting a job at a video store and Billy's own work hours, it means he doesn't get to show off in front of Steve.

Working at the pool had been brilliant way to get girls and show everyone just how perfect every part of him was, but Billy quickly decides that this job is even better. A police uniform hides his injured torso and is also a chick magnet; he finds himself showered with smiles and attention again.

Wearing it, Billy eventually meets some of his old school buddies for the first time since before the creature. They sneer playfully that he's become a traitor, changed sides, but Billy smirks and drawls; “Move along, boys. Or I will have to arrest you.”  
They laugh, extend invites to several parties the upcoming weekends, and Billy considers it. They admired him and he enjoyed being admired. He used to be good at partying. If only he didn't feel his entire body tense up at the very thought of a whole bunch of drunk, loud people...

He doesn't sleep much that night, restless and uncomfortable for some reason.

On a Sunday, his day off, Billy watches as Dustin turns the key and the Camaro comes to life with a mighty roar. All the children break out in frantic cheers and it is contagious. Letting out a triumphant whoop, Steve yanks Billy into a hug and Billy has no trouble returning it; grinning from ear to ear himself. Billy's smile only falter and then fades when Steve quickly releases him, won't meet his eyes and then ducks into the car to ruffle Dustin's hair instead of looking at Billy.

Billy's new job is simultaneously interesting and horribly boring. Billy hates himself for flinching and going pale whenever Hopper yells, which is a lot, and Billy _almost_ hates the man for noticing and deflating with guilt every time. Billy is NOT a pussy. He can take it.  
(Things gets weird once when this bald guy appears with some other guy in tow, someone who is just smiling at everyone, and Hopper bellows angrily; “Why are you two still here? Go away! What? I don't know; take him with you! Go away!”)

Also, even though Hopper told Billy that his father is gone, Billy keeps waiting for him to show up. He almost hopes he does because he would love to see him cower at the sight of Hopper and have him see his son wearing a cop's uniform like a champion. Respect and responsibility, right?

Billy still dreams about the creature. One morning Max has to call Steve when she finds her brother sitting in the corner of his room, knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around them, tears in his eyes and refusing to talk; merely taking small gulps of air. It takes Steve two hours to ease him out of it. It takes Billy a lot longer to remember that he's not meant to cling to him.

One week later, strutting down the street on his way to his car after work, tipping his hat to two girls, Billy savors their giggles when he suddenly notices a woman staring at him from across the street. He pauses, recognizing Mrs. Wheeler, and has a moment of indecisiveness.

He remembers the last time they met, after they were supposed to hook up, something he'd been itching to do since he saw her checking him out when he came around asking for Max, and the creature had almost pushed him into hurting her and bringing her to it.

She's watching him with a trying smile, close to apologetic, and Billy knows that all it would take is a smile, the right words and a light touch, and odds are that she'd fall for him all over again.

He is so very close to regaining everything he had hoped for this summer!  
So why doesn't he feel excited about it? Why is the idea of finally nailing Karen Wheeler not more appealing? Why does it feel empty, hollow and pointless?

Standing there, in that moment, Billy realizes that he can pretend everything is fine, wear that uniform and act like his old self, but things have changed. He has changed. Ever since he got out of the hospital, he's been trying to return to his old life, but it's not enough. He's not the same.

He gives Mrs. Wheeler a tip of his hat with an apologetic smile in turn, as it isn't her fault, but he wants something else. Someone else.  
So, even if it terrifies him, he has to try. Ask. And suddenly his heart **is** racing.

Billy hopes it isn't too late.

-

Parking the Camaro outside the video store, Billy takes a moment to adjust his uniform a little, hoists his belt, shoves his sunglasses further up on his nose and chews his gum noisily, then he pushes the doors open and stalks inside before he can change his mind.

There is a girl behind the counter. She eyes him and appears unimpressed. “Can I help you?”

Billy stops in front of her, gives her his most charming smile and slowly removes his sunglasses. “Is he here?”

“He? Steve?” The girl lifts an eyebrow, still not impressed, and turns to shout; “Hey, Dingus! The cops are here for you! What did you do?”

Steve stumbles through the doors to the backroom, wide-eyed. “What? Cops? Are you...” Then he blinks as he sees Billy in his uniform for the first time, impressed and... something else. He straightens, draws a hand through his crazy hair, grins and drawls; “Hargrove, is that you?”

“It's me.” Billy replies, nothing fake about his overly confident smile now. “Don't cream your pants.” He then nods back at his car. “I need to borrow you. Important police business.”

Steve is all eager excitement. He doesn't hesitate to abandon his post. “Sorry, Robin. It's an emergency. Gotta go!”

“Hey!” The girl yells, annoyed. “Steve! You can't just...!”

Backing up to hold the door open for Steve so he can dart out to the car, Billy turns to face the girl and slowly puts his sunglasses back on with a completely unapologetic smile as Steve ducks under his arm and heads outside. 

The girl blinks, anger dying on her tongue, then she blinks again and lifts her eyebrows in astonished surprise as she realizes something. “Oh.”

Billy makes a smooth turn and heads out to his car as well. Steve is grinning where he's standing next to the Camaro and he feels a jolt of excitement at the sight. His heart is really racing.  
“Robin is going to kill me.” Steve says, but he doesn't sound worried. He likes this girl, clearly.  
Billy feels an instant stab of jealousy. “Robin? That's that girl?” He spits out his gum, clicks his tongue and looks back at the video store. “She wasn't all that hot.”

Steve actually has the nerve to roll his eyes at him and merely gets in the car. “Where are we going?”

Billy, still not comfortable with the thought of Steve working with that girl, gets into the car and starts it up. “My place.”  
“Oh.” Steve suddenly seems nervous. Good. Because Billy is too.

Parking outside the house, Billy leads the way inside. Susan is at work and Max is out somewhere, so he and Steve can duck into his room without having to explain themselves to anyone. Once there, Steve takes a curious glance around, as if he hadn't been there already, before turning to face Billy with a shrug.  
“Okay, care to tell me why we're here?” Steve with his dark eyes, fluffy hair and dangerously tempting mouth. Was he always like this or does Billy simply have withdrawals?

A little lost in what he wants to do to him, Billy absently buys himself time with drawing his tongue along his lower lip in a suggestive move he'd perfected over the years. It is a bit ironic that the effect it has, seeing Steve's gaze focus on it, seeing Steve's lush lips part in an unknowing hunger, makes Billy equally distracted and they spend several seconds just staring at each other.  
“I like you too.” Billy blurts out. A part of him cringes at the uncool delivery, especially as Steve looks almost startled, but he knows he would have chickened out if not. “I mean, you're kind of hot, Harrington.”

Now a smile is starting to creep up on Steve's face. “You're not too bad yourself, Hargrove. Though, I suspect you already know that.”

Billy manages a faint smile before approaching the difficult bit. “What do you want from me?”

Now Steve is back to looking confused. “What?”

“If we...” Billy gestures back and forth between them. “I need to know what you would want from me. I don't really do relationships, Steve. Ever. I'm not good at them. I don't know how to... I don't do the hand-holding and lovey dovey stuff. Would that be okay?” 

-

Steve nods, thoughtfully, considering the words and what they mean, before he tries a careful smile and shrugs. “Okay. No public displays of affection. Kinda sucks, but I can live with it.”

Billy sighs, already feeling like a bastard. This had been a bad idea. He hadn't thought this through. He'd just been selfish, as usual. “No. No, you shouldn't have to live with it. I'm not a good deal right now, Steve. We both know I'm a mess, a mess not looking to get better any time soon, so maybe you should...”  
His words fade as Steve steps forward and gently cups his face, looking into his eyes with a gentle smile.

“It's fine.” Steve says. “We'll work something out. Yeah?”

And looking into those lovely eyes, Billy can actually block out his father's voice inside his head, trying to reach him with his hatred and foul words, trying to convince him to going back to pretending. Billy looks into Steve's eyes and then leans in to kiss him.  
Steve's lips are soft and perfect against his. Pliant and teasing. They're addictive. Yes, this is what he wants and exactly what he needs.

Billy deepens the kiss, makes it hot and filthy, and he savors the shudder he can feel go through Steve in response to it. He grabs a hold of Steve's shoulders, firmly adding pressure and making him back up until he bumps against the bed and sits down on it. Billy follows.

They end up lying on the bed, on their sides, facing each other, like before, but this time Billy isn't content with that. He crowds up against Steve, pushing and tugging at him until a sharp hurt shoots through him from one of his wounds and Billy is forced to pull back a little and hiss with pain.

Steve, flustered and every bit as eager, gets that worried frown and prevents Billy from leaning back in. “What do you want? Tell me. Don't hurt yourself now that we've finally got you on the mend.”

Billy hesitates, licks his lips, then orders; “Get on your back.”

Slightly nervous, very intrigued, Steve moves over on his back, and Billy doesn't hesitate to reach down and shove Steve's right leg to the side to give himself room as he follows on top of him.

It still tugs a little on his wounds, but it is totally worth it as Billy settles between Steve's thighs and aims to kiss him again; sliding his body up along the length of his and causing their increasingly hardening cocks catch and rub through their pants. Steve shakily curses against his lips at the feeling, and, hell, Billy himself is momentarily blinded by the pleasure. Especially when Steve's thighs comes up to cradle his hips and he rolls up against him; seeking more. He gives him more.

Billy only hesitates when Steve starts undoing his shirt and wants it off him. While the wounds are covered with bandage patches and look a lot better than before, there are still scars and swelling that ruins what was once perfect in his mind.

“You're still gorgeous.” Steve states quietly, hungrily, drawing a finger down Billy's throat to the scar at the top of his sternum. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Billy shudders, feeling no lie from the hot and hard body under his, and he allows Steve to remove the shirt. It's going to take some getting used to, allowing Steve to see him bared like this, but he thinks he can do it. His touch certainly feels good on his skin.  
When Steve's chest is bared, it feels even better against his own.

Yes, this is **definitely** what Billy wants.

Neither of them are really experienced in boy on boy action beyond this so they just do whatever feels good. Billy suspects his wounds won't allow for much more, he can already feel them complaining, but it's not too bad and so he ignores them in favor for more of this. Though, he does make a silent vow to dig into all the fun stuff he can do to Steve and how to do them. Do him.

But that is later, much later, right now they are gloriously busy with exploring each other and learning where to touch to make the other gasp and twitch. Steve is so delightfully responsive, but Billy finds himself worryingly receptive to him as well, and it's so damn perfect that it belongs in some sickening romance movie. He'd be disgusted if he wasn't so fucking turned on.

Billy does have a moment of triumph when he manages to get Steve off first this time, as it should be, but the sight is so hot that Billy nearly follows him.  
It takes all of his will-power to keep it at bay.

It takes Steve no more than a single kiss and a touch of his hand to shatter that will-power and Billy comes with a muffled moan against Steve's neck. Defeat has never felt this sweet.

Panting and savoring the relaxed feeling, they remain tangled up in each other for a long, long time. And while Billy still worries that he's going to destroy whatever thing that exists between them, he can't help himself and has to press butterfly light kisses to Steve's skin and run his fingertips over curves and muscles; claiming the land for himself. -Being possessive, not cuddling, he tells himself.

“You know what?” Steve muses, wearing a faint smile of bliss,“I think we're gonna be okay. I think we're gonna work this out just fine.” His fingertips are trailing across Billy's skin as well.  
Billy hides his own grin against his neck. But he hopes with all that is left of his soul that he is right.

Steve stays the rest of the day and then the night, and, this time, when the nightmares blooms inside his head, Billy is woken up by Steve's touch and he is allowed to curl up close to him until the trembling subsides.

-Please, Billy thinks, desperately. -Please, let us be alright...

\---

**Two weeks later**

El tilts her head at the sound, frowning. It's definitely a male voice and it's calling out, but for some reason it doesn't sound like any other kind of distress call she's ever heard. “What's... that?”

Max glances up from her magazine, listens and then her eyes widen and her face flushes. Thank God her mother is at work! She jumps up from her bed and drags El with her. “Let's go to your place today.”

El stumbles along as she's pulled down the hallway. “But...” She glances back, pretty sure the sounds are coming from Billy's room. “Is that Steve? Should we help him?”

Max' face is approaching crimson by now. She drags El out the front door and slams it shut before turning to look at her. “That was... not-bad-screams. Ok?”

El frowns, confused. “Billy is making him not-bad-scream?”

Unable to deal with it, Max merely drags her away from the house. “Ask your dad!”

-

Later, inside the house, inside Billy's room, a naked, sweat-glistering Steve is fighting to catch his breath and reboot his brain while he stares at the ceiling. “You did that on purpose, you douche.” He **knows** El and Max just heard him. He's never going to be able to look them in the eye again.

Billy glances up from where he's lying next to him and he's also wearing nothing, except a grin of pure evil. “It's not my fault you're loud.” Although, he did everything he could to make him louder. “And call me that one more time, and I'll do it again.”

Steve shivers, swallows and continues to stare up at the ceiling. There is a silence only broken by their ragged breathing for three full seconds, then he says, calmly and crystal clear; “Douche.”

“Right, okay, Harrington, you asked for it. Turn over. Oh, and you're going to need to bite down on this. I don't want the neighbors calling Hopper because you need to be taught a lesson. Stop laughing. This is serious.”

\---

**Three months later**

The Russian soldier watches as the monster stalks restlessly around inside the sealed room.

Its last meal is still scattered around, but it steps through the remains that once had been a terrified man without looking at it and keeps pacing, like it always does, has done for months.

The soldier frowns when the demogorgon suddenly comes to a halt and stares at the western wall.

It's almost as if it is listening to something.  
Something that is calling out to it.

And then the demogorgon answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took some time to finish this last chapter because I wanted it to be juuuust right. A huge thanks to everyone who gave me feedback, you guys are the reason why it became 4 chapters and not 1. AND BILLY DESERVED BETTER THAN WHAT HAPPENED IN SEASON 3!!!  
> -  
> Aaand the sequel for the ones who are interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19939486/chapters/47213137


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